


Please

by shatterbrained (fabricatedMiracles)



Series: Stanzastuck [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dirk is only mentioned in this, Jake rambling, Jake telling Dirk to kill him?, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, POV First Person, Poetry, Spoken Word Poetry Kind-Of, Terrible poetry, The whole thing is a soliloquy to him?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 21:15:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1998081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricatedMiracles/pseuds/shatterbrained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I can't write songs, darling, and I can't write poems, and I can't right wrongs.</p>
<p>(A spoken word-type poem from Jake's perspective.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to please, and thanks for reading. it's kind of trash, but hey, it happened and i kind of like it.

I can't write songs, darling, and I can't write poems, and I can't right wrongs. Taking the wrong, the path not right, I advanced left, then I signed off, left it behind to undo and unwind and screw the screws in my head a little tighter before I screwed myself over.

I was happy in the trees, the sand, and the sea, but on this Land where I am, I have nothing to see but the black sky and the green earth below me. Roped into a game I thought I'd like to play, I landed myself the position of Page, and with that, a new page in my book began, adding to the story of a cowardly young man. I had no dreams, no life in gold was mine, because as it turns out, you're never too old or young to die.

Thick on my tongue are ashes, ashes, we all fall down, then rise again as nobles with crowns, but it would have likely been better if I had just drowned in myself or you and found a way to stay.

It came out like I did; it didn't. Stuffed in a closet I couldn't bring myself to close, I was just this close, so close yet so far from the closed-off world of a person that made mockery of Death, that left me deaf in desperation with his endless pleas for me to please, please, not go.

But then, kicked off a cliff into a hazy headache of a sugar trance, I was crazy off my pants, bright and blinding and promising promises that I didn't mean, I promise, please don't go, I'm just tactless and emotionally inept, I know, and your inner cogitations are leagues beyond mine.

I’d say so much, but it’s rough, dear, knowing you’re far from here, numb to me and never listening, and all I’ve got is a you I made up and tears glistening on me, on clasped hands as I try to hand over my heart too late, after I’ve lost you.

The ghost of you lives in me, giving my life a live and sarcastic play by play beration. You're my biggest fear, insecurity in full manifestation, and sometimes I wish you'd stride on, Strider, ride another current of despair, Strider. The gulf between us grows wider, Strider, and I'm not sure how to go about it, bro, this business of letting you go, because I have so, so many miles to go before I dare to sleep. A distance so great for my Hope, so cheap and full of disbelief, distresses me, and shameless in shame, I weep.

You leapt, and I stepped back, turning my back on you and me and us and everything that was out of fear and your suffocating love, though, now that it's gone, I'm not sure what was actually wrong with us because at this point I'm damn sure that I made this happen. I miss your love, I want you, today, tomorrow, yesterday, come back and asphyxiate me, kill me, Dirk, kill me dead and please, pretty please, kill me yours, until I’m dead to the world.

I believe in no one now. And in the pull of my hand, the way your face in my photos looks at me, the world is just a little less awful. I lick my lips and pant and I know that yes, I am, I'm still obsessed.

We don't work, Dirk, but I love you, far too much to just let it rest there. I'm no hero; I'm no adventurer. I'm a lovesick coward who just wants you again, who wants another chance to see if then, maybe, doing it all over in person now could make me into someone that maybe you could love.

**Author's Note:**

> comments? kudos? don't hesitate. they motivate me and i will, without fail, write a hell of a lot more when i know i have readers!


End file.
